


Two

by hopefever



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-07 00:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11612298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefever/pseuds/hopefever
Summary: A botched mission lands Gabriel in hospital and an argument ensues."Morrison, what a surprise. Come to laugh at me?""Jesse told me you were injured, he looked worried sick. He seemed to think one of us would benefit from me visiting...Thought you might've finally kicked the bucket this time""And wouldn't that have been convenient for you."





	Two

**Author's Note:**

> An old rp that I cleaned up between me and my boyfriend.  
> Formatted so each chunk is alternating between Gabriel and Jack's perspective.

Even with his superhuman regeneration, he'd suffered grievous damage. The damage to Gabriel's innards, or so the paramedics had said, were akin to intense organ trauma seen in car accident victims. Victims, he specified. Those who'd sustained them were dead. Externally inflicted; three bullets had to be dislodged from his thoracic cavity and a laceration bit into his bicep, a white-red valley of fat and sinew. 

Of course, it was sewn up now, the entry wounds from the bullets sealed. In a day, give or take, they'd be reduced to shiny scars anyhow. The internal damage would require some intervention, might take a little longer, but that'd soon be void too. Physically he would repair. 

Reyes sat in bed, listened to the beep of his heart rate monitor, and seethed. It had been a goddamn set up, right from the fucking beginning. Talon was a budding terror organisation but had already exacted several hits dire enough to make them high-priority, worthy of Overwatch's (and consequently, Blackwatch's) time. Blackwatch had entered first to engage the terrorists so that Overwatch could secure the bomb and save civilians. It had been absolute carnage. No amount of training, no caution exercised and none of the information on the building could've countered what had happened; explosives took out the floor, boxed them inand then the sheer numbers that came at them, from every angle- a massacre. With bloodied fingers he'd radioed for help. Nothing. Tried again. 

Nothing. Nobody was coming for them; Overwatch was doing the superficial business, the surface work. They knew how perilous this mission was how dirty it was going to be and wanted to waste as little of their own resources as possible. 

Blackwatch was disposable. No matter how skilled his soldiers were just because of who and what they were, they were throwaway. Was he disposable too? Had he fought so fucking hard to be where he was and who he was to die like he'd watched his vice die, a sponge for bullets under a terrorists assault rifle? He'd survived by the skin of his teeth, gone back to back with McCree, shot rounds upon rounds into Talon operatives until his joints were numb from the kick of his shotguns and then the second round of explosions had gone off and he'd been unlucky enough to be directly adjacent. Before he'd blacked out he hadn't seen Jess' face like that since the day he'd recruited him, wild with fear. 

Gabriel felt sick with anger. He wanted to rip the IV from his veins, the morphine made him woozy. Jesus- he was so angry. So much so that he didn't hear the footsteps heading for his private unit, the creak of the door.

\--

Overwatch's side of the operation had gone without a hitch. Civilian roundup was simple enough without enemy interference, it almost went too well. Morrison couldn't say he wasn't relieved that no innocent lives were lost or even in serious danger but the smoothness of the task felt wrong, talon was a rapidly growing organisation they should've faced more resistance, he knew from personal experience that they had at least 3 times the man power that they faced today. 

He had tried to get into contact with Reyes on the air waves (admittedly he should've done so sooner but he'd hesitated, knew Reyes would get the job done and concentrated on reassuring and rounding up civilians) to see how they were holding up their end but the other end was unresponsive. He wasn't sure if he was being ignored, connections were simply down or if something had gone seriously wrong. 

White hot dread coursed through his veins. He had a tendency to panic in these sorts of situations but kept his game face on in front of the other troops. His first instinct was to send in a few men to scope out the situation but knew it would be a fruitless endeavour. It was always his paranoid asses first instinct (right under rushing right into the thick of it himself) but each and every time it had either resulted in a needless waste of men or Reyes storming into his office telling him to keep his Overwatch lackeys out of their missions, or some other bullshit about Morrison not trusting them to get the job done. 

The commander had greatly regretted his decision not to send in help when he found himself approaching Gabriel’s hospital room, heart and lungs stuck in his throat, blood pounding in his veins. Gabriel Reyes wasn't the type to get injured easily so the resistance they faced must've been almost worse than he could imagine. 

He didn't know the specifics of the battle, hadn't done the official debriefing yet. Once he got approached by Jesse upon returning to HQ telling him Reyes was hurt he rushed straight here without asking Jesse the specifics or thinking at all for that matter. 

As he slowly pushed open the door he braced himself, Gabriel was alive at least, didn't seem to be in critical condition but it still pained him to see him in such a position. He was an SEP soldier the wounds would heal physically, but psychologically? 

He could've prevented this. 

Gabriel didn't seem to notice him as he stood in the doorway staring, hoping to get a few moments to let the panic and fear of losing him settle before speaking up.

\--

Ana, he thought. Maybe Jesse. Bastard boy hadn't sustained one shot in the bullet storm, luck of the devil. The last person he expected to walk through those doors, cerulean coat-tails a flap, was Jack. 

It was a scene that had played out many times before, during kinder, congenial times, one would visit the bedridden other and back then the sight of Jack approaching his bedside would've felt like a breath of fresh air, his presence expunging and remedial. One he'd replayed in his head to a similar frequency. Funny how things change. His cardiac monitor beeped softly. His heart was the black soil, his hate the permafrost armouring it; thick and cold because he feared if he let it ignite Gabriel would scream and scream and all the wrath and hurt and hateful fucking love culminated would rush forth and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop. Too volatile right now to be faced with him, the closer Jack got the angrier Gabriel felt and the colder he grew, an act of self-preservation. 

One of the worst things that had happened amongst all the messed-up shit that had happened to them, between them, was that Gabriel had begun to foster self-doubt. He couldn't tell whether his views on Jack were irrational or justified anymore, they were so twisted by the past and the present. Piteous, he was disgusted by himself. Things had progressed too far to rectify without either realising it, the chasm between them filled with all the things they should've done and should've said now too wide. Too deep. 

When Jack stood visible at the doorway of his room his jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack. "Morrison," Gabriel said slowly, voice scratchy from smoke inhalation. An intentional pause was left where he reached for the panel on his heart monitor, cut the power. It flat lined for a couple seconds before the equipment shut off and the room was left deathly quiet. 

"What a surprise. You come to laugh at me?"

The second the words left his mouth he knew they were too bitter, they weren't him. He didn't care.

\--

Gabe's words sent a spike of rage coursing through him along with a pit of regret. Knew it was a bad idea to come here but he felt a stubborn pull that wouldn't allow him to keep away. The tension in the room created between the two of them was almost unbearable, he felt like if he took one step forward it would plunge into him and gut him like a knife. 

Jack does so anyway, always been inclined to masochistic tendencies, venturing half way into the room not quite bold enough to fully approach the bed. 

"Jesse told me you were injured, he looked worried sick. He seemed to think one of us would benefit from me visiting." 

A bullshit lie of course, Jesse merely stated the facts, as he did each and every time this happened per Jacks request. The boy was the perfect fit for the job, loyal and cared about Gabriel almost as much as he did and had agreed that it would be in his best interest to keep Jack informed on this sort of thing. When they first started this arrangement Jesse, enthusiastic as the boy is, wouldn't hesitate to share everything they'd been up to down in Blackwatch but since then they've agreed that he would only inform him if anything serious happened that he knew Reyes would never alert Jack to himself. 

"Thought you might've finally kicked the bucket this time" he swallowed thickly, not attempting to let on the gnawing anxiety that had wracked his body on his way over and still not completely settled itself.

\--

"And wouldn't that have been convenient for you." Had the cardiac monitor still been attached it would've accelerated; physical from psychological. As it stood, the silence in the room was deafening enough. Jack stood back, the kind of distance kept between something dangerous. Like the wounded animal Jack was looking at him like, Gabriel stared back; one misspoken word from the other man’s mouth from snapping. His gaze burned into Jack and he saw his unease but long gone were the days where he would accommodate for it, assuage him with a rough-gentle word, knock his shoulder against Jack's. The memories were poignant but he alchemised it into acrimony and poured it into his anger. He said he wouldn't, no tears, damn it. 

He was stone. Gabriel sat up in bed. He was flesh. "Do you feel like you've benefitted? Eh?"

\--

"That’s what you think of me? You think I want you dead Gabe? If that was the case then why would I be here?" 

Benefitted? Did Gabriel really believe that or was he trying to get a rise out of him. That came into question Jack's own attitude towards the other. He kept his distance, he would act spitefully when the situation arose but he didn't stop caring. It was as if every contradictory emotion he felt towards the other soldier had stacked up together melding and deforming until he didn't know what was real and what his mind had fabricated. He never knew how he was coming across to others anyway, didn't know how to change it, not sure if it mattered or would've made a difference anyway. 

It was easier just to combat it with indifference, repress his uncertainty and cover it up with a cold exterior.

\--

"I dunno'- why are you here? Thought you'd be sucking off the overseers for a job well done. Or giving the media circus that winning poster-boy smile."

In knowing someone as intimately as Gabriel and Jack knew each other placed the soul in one hand and the sickle in the other. They knew where it would hurt most. They knew the line between candour and cruelty and Gabriel was crossing it, as crass as he liked. The worst part was that it wasn't to ward Jack off anymore, he didn't want him to leave at all. He wanted Jack closer, closer, so he could hear his accusations and remember them; would see his snarl and never forget it. 

Gabriel was sick of fighting the subjugation he was watching- had watched swallowed Jack. The entire organisation was fucking virulent and not one person had escaped its contamination, even himself, who had fought it so fiercely for Jack and himself. And then for just for himself. Even looking at himself in this moment - fists shaking beneath the sheets he was so aggrieved - he could laugh at how fucked it all was.

\--

'A job well done' He almost scoffed at that, he hadn't even done anything. There was barely even a risk in his side of the mission. 

He was mentally, emotionally dead to the whole charade. He thought Gabriel of all people would understand the burdens and the strife that was the reality behind the glorified news reports, the fabled stories of the saviours of their country. The validation, the admiration showered upon him by the population registered as empty and bitter, a reaction to the ridiculous farce that was Strike commander Jack Morrison. 

"No but is that what you want, you want to glory Reyes? You can have it but it's not all its damn well cracked up to be."

\--

"Ahhh, úchale! Chingate guey- are you tellin' me you're that deluded? You think I'm talking about the- the fucking," he screwed his face up with revulsion because the word was so egregious it had a taste, "'glory?'" 

The promotion had begun the process and before long all the trust they'd nurtured had been tattered, as fragile as a butterfly cupped within their scarred hands. The hands of others had prised theirs apart and, exposed to the elements, its wings had been shredded. They'd both played the fool in this organisations sorry scheme, strutted and fretted their hour upon the stage; their tale one told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 

All the metaphors in the world couldn't summarise the complete wasteland between them now. 

"Juro por Dios, I can't believe this. I can't believe you." 

If this was coming to fruition now he sure as hell wasn't having this argument laying in a hospital bed and if Jack was going to remain five metres away then he would come to Jack. He tossed the bed sheets aside, revealing his tightly bandaged torso, and reached for the IV line, unsnagged it from the winged guide and dragged the catheter out of his vein.

\--

"Well what do you expect me to believe? What do you expect me to do?!" 

When Reyes ripped himself out of his hospital bed Jack stood his ground, snarling when they came face to face with each other. 

"You can't get it into your head that I'm here because I was actually concerned. Fucked up as it is I still care about what happens to you?" 

It was a painful sight to see, the wounds he had sustained were brutal and as Reyes exerted his body he could see blood beginning to seep through the bandages. Gabe may be a super soldier but that didn't make him immune to peril. 

"You're proving yourself as to why when you do stupid shit like this" gesturing to Reyes staggering on his feet in front of him "when you've barely healed, you're aggravating your wounds"

\--

"Fucked up as it is? Fucked up as it is?" 

Haemorrhaged lungs screamed in protest as he stood opposite Morrison, head held high, hands balled into tight fists. This was a stupid move; one that'd delay his physical recovery and leave an indelible blot on what was left of their relationship but emotions had always been his Achilles heel. 

"You know how many men I lost? They weren't good men, no, but they were my fucking men and they deserved to die like soldiers, not butchered like animals! You know-" The outburst was putting a duress on his body; Gabriel's chest heaved as he took a breath to fuel his tirade, made a cracking sound, it was agonising but he ignored it. Focused on Jack's face. He didn't shout but his voice rose in volume, tone dripping with splenetic derision for the Overwatch Commander. 

" - you know who gathered all the intel by kidnapping the corrupt Dorado legislate who was working with Talon, threatened him and his fucking family until he told us who the operatives were? You know who tortured the fucking operatives we found when your technicians couldn't decrypt Talon's firewall, Jack?" 

He inhaled sharply, chest cavity crackled again. 

"You only give a shit because I'm in a hospital bed. Don't try and force your pity onto me- asqueroso, don't insult me like that."  
\--

"I'm well aware of that Reyes, I'm not regarding your men as anything less than excellent soldiers. But don't sell my people short, we had no information on your situation, couldn't get in contact. Our first priority was civilian evacuation what did you expect us to do" 

Jack was on the defensive, despite the hot headed soldier he was he wasn't good at confrontation but there was no way to worm his way out of this situation. He'd avoided facing Reyes for long enough and his current physical state didn't change the fact that he was angry, sick to his stomach at how in just a few years they had managed to regress from something so intertwined, the most important thing to each other to hurling insults and lashing out at the mere suggestion of what they used to be. Everything out of his mouth seemed to just make things worse but he refused to let his weakness pervade. 

"I don't pity you Gabriel, of course that's not the case but when was the last time we had a proper conversation that wasn't an argument outside of work. Because I sure as hell can't remember"

\--

"That's your issue, not mine. If you'd supplied the numbers then you could've evacuated and then fought in the throng. You could've fought in the goddamn' throng anyways but Overwatch has always been about commercialism and you've got to maintain that image, héroe americano, no matter how much you fucking hate it." 

Gabriel punctuated that with a cough that he could keep at bay no longer. A metallic wetness crept up the back of his oesophagus. 

The belief that this was unsalvageable was one a finality neither wanted to bear but it was the reality; that blissful consonance of the late SEP and even the gritty concord cast during the Omnic Crisis was a thing of the past, they seemed like memories of total strangers made by a different person. Gabriel couldn't touch them anymore, it just hurt. 

Those words tripped something in Reyes. 

"So that's your problem? That's where the root of all of this lies? You wanna' talk- right. Right." 

He reached forward and shoved at Jack's shoulder with his unharmed arm. It felt good. Did he want to fight him? Maybe he wanted to fight him. 

"How are you, Morrison?" 

He shoved him again, harder this time. 

"How you been?"

\--

“Don't act ignorant Reyes, you know it's out of my hands. I may be strike commander but the premise of Overwatch was already set, I have rules and regulations to follow too I don't have free reign. From the intel we received before we went in Blackwatch seemed more than capable of picking up the slack, we made a miscalculation and of course I regret that." 

It felt like he was just grasping for excuses at this point and he was, his fight or flight instincts raised and clashing. He didn't want to discuss it anymore (deep down it was because he knew he would lose but his pride wouldn't settle for that). 

"For fucks sake Reyes, what are you a child" swatting at and grabbing the hand that swung at him. It would be easy to turn the tables on him in his current physical state, he was angry but wasn't quite at the point of kicking a man while he was down. 

He held Gabriel's wrist in a vice grasp to prevent further attempts at pushing him, squeezing and constraining his movement in a way he knew would piss Gabe off.

\--

"Don't preach to me about ignorance, 'Commander Morrison', it's embarrassing. You don't fool me, drop your fucking persona, Jack. I see through that shit." 

The back of his throat felt like he'd been sucking on pennies and his abdomen had begun to cramp; he shouldn't be walking around, his body was shutting down, but this wasn't a conversation Gabriel wanted to have without proximity, without touch, without intensity. He was brimming with all of that, had let it brew into a tumultuous cocktail long after his belief in Overwatch had gone. Only now that his belief in Jack was waning (never, never had he thought he'd see the day) had it climaxed. 

"I refuse to dance to the beat of these people’s drums and, yeah- you always were a people-pleaser Morrison but now you're just naive. You're a performing monkey. You're a goddamn' joke" 

Gabriel realised when Jack locked his hand around his wrist that they hadn't touched in months. He rebelled against the restraint the only way he knew could, kept his wrist static, didn't push nor pull. 

"If you don't let me go," he said, slow, dangerous, "I'm going to fucking hit you." 

If they fought he wouldn't win, he knew that. His body was failing him even as he threatened, blood and bile pooling beneath his tongue. But he wasn't defenceless and what damage would it do to his dignity when he regarded Jack's so shallow?

\--

"You're in no position to be making those kinds of threats, how you going to hit me huh? I've restrained your only good arm" 

Squeezing tighter to emphasise the point, pressing into Reyes slightly in an attempt to come across imposing. 

Out of all that's been said so far Gabriel's comments about him actually hit him hard, he could tell it wasn't just something said in the heat of the moment? With Gabriel being one of the only (if not only) people whose opinion truly mattered to him it hurt to be viewed as that shallow, like anything he'd worked for or believed in had been deemed worthless. However stubborn as he was he wasn't about to let on how the others words affected him. 

"Get back in that fucking bed Gabriel or I will have to force you to. I can see how much pain you're in, you've not healed and you're bleeding out your god damn mouth"

\--

Every so often his eyesight would disperse into static and he would blinking through his swimming vision until he could see again. Jack was right. Five hours hadn't even passed since he'd nearly been combusted and that wasn't long enough for his cells to naturally revitalise. Still, the pain barely registered; or rather, it sat a prelude to the all-consuming hate (love?) for the man before him. 

There had never been reliance but Gabriel hadn't realised how much of himself he'd invested in their personal relationship. It wouldn't hurt so impossibly otherwise. 

The attempt at intimidation did nothing but antagonise Gabriel further and he surged forward too, using the slight height he had on Jack as leverage, forced himself into Jack's face, scarred visage twisted into a snarl. His free hand reached up and clamped over Jack's hand, held it fast to his wrist. His hold was surprisingly iron but his palm was hot, clammy. 

"You haven't made the mistake of underestimating me in a long time, pendejo" he spat. "And if you try to force me into that bed, you are going to regret it. You are going to regret it."

\--

Jack scoffed, "As if I don't regret enough already" 

Putting stress on his injured arm was a bad move he knew Gabriel knew that. It just went to show how deep and how strong the others hatred for him ran. 

"You'll collapse before you have time to make do on that threat Reyes. Or will I have to call the nurse in here? Maybe even Dr Ziegler? Looks like you'll have to do as I say or physically stop me from doing so" 

Morrison was provoking him on purpose, unsure as to why. Physical fighting was easier, it was natural, what both of them knew. They did it enough times in their days in the SEP but then it was mostly training and almost always lead to sweet touches and softly spoken words bestowed upon each other in the safety of a dark room afterwards. Jack didn't kid himself into believing the same would happen this time. Maybe he just wanted Gabriel to take it out on him, maybe he deserved it this time.

\--

That was it, he could stand it no longer, couldn't hear another ostensible word from Jack's mouth. If Jack was going to to act like this was a cerebral matter, that his emotions were petulant, then fuck him. Gabriel had tried everything, there was no diplomacy left. Over the years he'd exhausted every sentiment, there were no words left to say. 

Before Jack could even finish his final sentence he tore the Overwatch commander’s wrist off, downwards to delay his reaction time, and cracked his fist forward with as much force as he could muster, felt it connect.   
The recoil juddered up Gabriel's arms, as if his bones were a mast, and when it reverberated to his vitals the pain was debilitating. Just barely did he refrain from cursing aloud but he staggered and let breath susurrate through his clenched teeth, had thrown his entire body into the one blow. After several unsteady, painful seconds he righted himself, forced his wracked breathing to settle, and looked Jack straight in the eyes. When he next spoke Gabriel thought he would shout but his words came out level, controlled fury. 

"I'd you want to take fucking everything else out of the equation, fine. Just you and me, yeah?"

The fist he'd hit Jack with was shaking but he stood fast, eyes on fire; a fortress of pride and strength, even when spilling his guts. And by the pungency in his mouth, he would quite literally spill his guts. 

"I don't even recognise you anymore, Jack. This isn't who-“ he licked his lips, heard a thickness enter his voice, screwed his eyes shut momentarily, the words sticking to his gore-slick throat and spat out like they were insults. "-I fought beside and fell in love with, cause' I loved you like hell, Jack. If there was anything that I thought I could rely on through all this shit it was that I really fucking loved you."

\--

Jack could feel tears begin to prickle in his eyes, raw emotion welling up in his throat threatening to choke him where he stood. He wiped his bloodied nose, winced a bit at the pain but it was nothing compared to the emotional mess they had made for themselves.

"I'm still-" He choked, taking a moment to regain himself before continuing. "I'm still that person, I still, fuck I still love you Gabriel that hasn't changed" 

Still didn't believe that would ever change. Despite that he didn't kid himself for a second into believing they could rekindle what they once had. It was a fundamental part of him now in penetrable despite the ill, vengeful and spiteful feelings he attempted to smother and kill it with. Regardless of the distance he kept between them his sick attachment wouldn't allow him to let go. Even if that caused his behaviour to become obsessive, jealous, possessive. His previously mentioned arrangement with Jesse was only the tip of the iceberg. 

He hadn't noticed an outward change to himself until Gabriel mentioned it since everything he did, felt, whatever he kept repressed, festering everything inside himself he'd depersonalised from his physical body, didn't know what about himself was real, what was fabricated anymore.

\-- 

"No you're not," Gabriel retaliated immediately, wouldn't let the words hang in the air. "This complacence, this peacocking. I don't know who I'm talking to, but it sure as hell isn't Jack Morrison." 

Caught in the fervour he hadn't realised his bodies’ deterioration and he raised his hand to his face, coughed against his knuckles and then involuntarily retched. Out came an alarming amount of blood, it dripped down his wrist, a string of clouded-red saliva connecting the back of his hand and his bottom lip. 

Gabriel wiped it carelessly on his bandages. It would have to wait; he wasn't retreating from this on account of his fucking body, to hell with sensibility. Everything was falling to pieces anyways, why not that too? He still wanted to hit Jack again, to physically beat his feelings into him, wanted to beat Jack's own feelings out. Touch had always played a big part between them; if they couldn't excuse softness, couldn't reach an understanding through shared solicitous and natural touches anymore then fighting was the only thing they had. 

"There's no future here; I'm not going to get comfortable just sitting and watching this take you and me apart bit by bit. You see the stuff the Medias been unearthing, sweetheart? You trust blindly in the good of others. Everything is going to shit and- yeah, I'm not without blame, so this is sorry for the first and last time. Cause' I'm done." 

Dry anger was so much more palatable; Gabriel wished he could maintain that front and kept his anger clinical because the squeezing in his chest and constriction in his throat was more painful than any of the bullet wounds bleeding red spots through his gauze. As he spoke the fissures of hurt became apparent, revealed the bottomless grief beneath the fight and force; rough voice cracking like a broken bell. No fucking tears, he'd sworn to himself. 

He hoped the lump in his throat was another globule of blood. No fucking tears.

\--

"Fine, that's what you want to believe. You think I'm an empty shell of a man I once was, that may be true Reyes, maybe who I was back then was a lie and this is who I really am, maybe you don't or never knew me at all" 

He honestly didn't know anymore. Strike Commander. Jack Morrison. He'd lost himself and he didn't know or care if he'd ever find it again. Everything Reyes said just kept punctuating the point into him, like it was hacking away trying to get to a truth he didn't know was still there anymore. 

"But don't go preaching like I'm the only one who changed." 

He grabbed hold of the man whose body was falling apart in front of him, deteriorating by the second. He would not let this argument end with Gabriel collapsing in a pool of his own blood. They would finish this properly because he'd had enough of doing nothing but tip toe around and avoid the problem. 

"Regardless of that I'm not about to let you pass out 5 feet from your hospital bed, so get back in or do you think you can flake out on this by passing out and not finishing what we've started."

\-- 

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe I never really knew you at all," he breathed. There was no inflection to indicate scorn; either he was too exhausted or he'd really began to look at that tragedy as a possibility. That chip of self-doubt...yeah. Yeah, he'd lost himself too. 

Ever proud, he attempted to back out of Jack's grip. Gabriel knew his limitations and didn't need Jack trying to care for him physically in lieu of addressing the emotional impasse. And he'd just accused Reyes' of flaking out on him. It was funny (except that it wasn't) enough for him to snicker, vitriolic and humourless. He wasn't successful, Jack's hold on him too firm. His hands were cool on his bare torso, skin burning up, and Gabriel's pain-addled brain found himself thinking that sensation alone, it was mildly pleasant. 

"You've got a lot of nerve. Let go of me, Morrison, I ain't fucking dying. I know if I'm pushing it too far, I don't need you to walk me to my fucking bed." 

The mutter was harsh. The lump in his throat was heavy and his heart wasn't made of ice or fire anymore, it was leaden. He didn't let it show superficially. No FUCKING tears. He'd bleed out before he let Morrison see the extent that this hurt. Gabriel refused to reveal a part of himself that private and ardent to him ever again.

\--

He hadn't really believed it at all even though he was the one that had said it. He just wanted to take a stab at Gabriel, push him away like he did everyone else. Gabe had been the only person he had ever let close, the one person that knew shit about him that he could never share with anyone else, things he didn't even know about himself. It hurt to hear his own words repeated to him from the others mouth, like he said them in a hope that Gabriel would deny them, tell him he was being stupid.

"Then what are you trying to achieve with this? You're not helping yourself by bleeding out all over the floor" 

Gesturing to the forming puddle of blood between them. The tremor visibly coursing through Gabe's body. He was looking into the others eyes but they looked glazed like they kept unfocusing. Cold hard dread shot through Morrison’s body, he hadn't noticed the extent of Gabriel's deterioration in the heat of their arguing.   
He swallowed thickly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Gripping tighter despite the others remarks. 

"Please Gabe I'm not going to beg you"

\--

Two instincts waged within him; to act like a man possessed and rend himself from Jack's grip by any means necessary or to pull Jack to him, press their foreheads together. Both were crazy, both idealistic. In actuality he simply gripped the underside of the other man’s arms in turn, as he had done before, asserting himself. 

"Bleeding out? You're-" Gabriel's eyes followed his gesture and- oh, wow. He hadn't noticed the sheet of blood sluicing his abdomen, nor the growing pool all over the floor, too enraptured in their altercation to notice. Gabriel snorted, rolled his eyes, as if it were a mild irritation instead of a grievous injury. His hands went lax around Jack's forearms. 

It was then that he could see that the fire had gone out. He had been a towering inferno in that moment, scathing and emotional, and Morrison was yellow embers, the afterglow of what they'd been. Hurling abuse and accusations at him was one of the only things that kept a cadence, kept something - anything - burning, the cinders of what they'd had. Past tense- he kept saying it; what they'd been, who they'd been. But Gabriel could see it unmarred now and stared the other soldier down vacantly, that vehemence dissipated to smoke. His insides were in agony. He was sick of yelling; of loud anger, unspoken grief. He was raw. 

"...Let go of me. I said that I don't need you to walk me to my bed.”

\--

Jack swallowed thickly, a spike of relief poking through his pool of anxiety. He gave Gabriel a tight squeeze before finally releasing him of his iron grip, sure he would finally listen to him and get back in the bed. 

With the shouting match they'd practically had he was surprised the nurses and other members of staff had left them undisturbed. He should probably call for somebody to come and help. 

He hesitated, turning towards Reyes. 

"For what its worth, which probably isn't very much, I’m sorry too" avoiding eye contact the whole time. Not quite sure what he was sorry for, coming to visit him when he clearly wasn't wanted? Taking the position that Reyes clearly deserved and leaving him in the dust? The outcome of the mission that landed Gabriel here in the first place? He was sorry for all of it, everything. But it had happened there was no turning back for them, neither could take back their actions, their words, they couldn't repair what they'd already so violently destroyed.

\-- 

The squeeze took him unawares and Gabriel paused in place as he balked and for a couple of seconds it was him holding Jack, fingers slack around the compression shirt he wore beneath his gauntlets. The bottomless ache in his stomach couldn't be categorised; did he chalk it up to hate? Heartsickness? Hell, even sexuality? 

He let go. 

Even as Reyes limped to his bed he carried the proud gait of an unvanquished veteran. He sat down heavily and reinserted the needle through his vein. Morphine, somnolent and strong, immediately flooded his bloodstream and Gabriel sighed softly, swayed a little. The numbing agent’s effect was a welcome distraction now that he'd forcibly divested himself of empathy. 

At the apology he didn't say anything, just gave Jack a long, long look, one Jack couldn't see with his eyes downcast. Was he going to leave? Coward. Coward, coward. Running away with his tail between his legs when he'd had the audacity to pontificate about flaking out. He wanted him to leave, prove him right. He wanted him to stay, prove him wrong. He didn't know what about this fight marked it as the last one he vowed to ever have but the certitude was condensed into his expressions, the hard unforgiving lines of his face; his set jaw, his unflinching frown. He'd really accepted that they'd passed the point of no return and Gabriel would let himself cry when Jack left, it was a pain so poignant it was deserved. 

He was on the verge of tears even now, could feel a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw as he kept it at bay and he would keep it at bay; for as long this aloof facade required. 

"Tell Lock and Dudman to-- and McCree, actually - tell them I want them to report to me in half an hour," he said flatly, the air of detached professionalism foreign coming from him. 

"You don't need to call Angela. It's ICU. I have a button that calls nurses to my room."

\--

The pressure between them had an air of finality to it. He didn't want to leave yet, there was still so much more he had to say, some he couldn't quite put into words. But his heart was sore and aching, he couldn't trust himself to not cry or breakdown if they kept at this. He may have trusted Reyes enough to be around when he did so in the past but things had changed. Jack had had enough of exposing his weaknesses for them to be used against him. 

"We still need to have the formal debriefing, from today’s mission. That can wait for tomorrow... or in a few days I suppose" 

He let the nurses filter in, all rushing to clear up the spilt blood from the floor and to get Reyes stabilised. Jack was all but shoved to the side of the room. He vaguely heard one of them reprimand him from unhooking himself and reopening his wounds, another side eying Jack with an accusatory glare. Despite everything he still hung back observing, not wanting to leave just yet, he felt if he did Gabriel would be completely out of his grip forever. He was hanging by a thread trying desperately to cling onto it for as long as he possibly could. 

He was determined not to leave the room until he saw that Gabe was at least stabilised, grabbing a chair and dragging it to the corner of the room. While he waited he gave Jesse a quick call as Reyes had requested, quietly instructing him to wait an hour instead as Gabriel needed rest more than anything in his current state.  
\--

"'Scuse me if I ain't at liberty to say, but he ain't gon' like that, Jack," Jesse McCree had said, pronounced the middle vowel in Jack's name phonetically odd, as he always did; 'jah-yuh-k'. There was a hard edge to his usually easy drawl. "'Course I'll do as you ask but he ain't gon' like you underminin' him like that, Jack. An'- scuse' me if I ain't at liberty to say - but you two have jus' got to stop, you're killin' each other. Yuh gonna' kill each other." 

\--

Jack sighed into the phone, it was hard to get annoyed at Jesse but when his words reaffirmed his own doubts and the finality of his relationship with Gabriel he snapped. Not bothering to answer the young soldier promptly hanging up.

\--

Gabriel withstood the ministrations with a steely silence. It cowed the nurses, Ziegler even. The trainee doctor disinfected the wounds and applied biotic pastes and every amazed comment she made about his rate of recovery was greeted with an ungracious grunt. 

Shut down, Angela pursed her lips and fell silent. Guilt plucked faintly at his heart - she was young and he was being purposefully difficult - and so he isolated his antipathy to Morrison, treated her to replies. Reticent, but who could blame him, he'd just realised the loss of the only person who’s soul he'd ever wanted to protect and love and learn. It sounded like an extract from a melodrama, even in his head, but he could think of no other way to stress the stomach-turning absence Morrison left, even as he sat picking nervously at his fingers and hair and clothes in the corner of the room. 

The medics left. The opiates in his drip had been refreshed and the pain was nearly unnoticeable; that had been the only thing they'd really needed to do, his body already capable of fixing itself. Gabriel turned his head on the pillow, looked to Jack. 

"It's fuckin' perfunctory for me anyways. The UN representatives don't give a shit about what Blackwatch has to say, only that we remained clandestine."

\-- 

Jack sat irritably in the corner of the room until the medics left, only looking up when Gabriel spoke. Voice sounding slightly better already due to the rapid self-repair rate that came with being a super soldier. 

"Regardless I still haven't heard the full story of what went down today, I came straight down here since the moment we returned so I think it's within my rights as Commander to have all the details." 

It was rare for Reyes to turn up to debriefs anyway. No matter how much he's previously summoned him, sent people after him, down right demanded him to be there. Ensuring his presence in person has become like a last resort but he needs to hear the facts from Reyes himself in a place without the presence of heated emotions so he can prevent something like this happening again. As Strike Commander he could at least do that much. 

"Neither of us want a repeat of a situation like that again I'm sure"

\--

First Jack localised the fact they never spoke outside of disagreements over Overwatch but it was the only topic, he realised, where they could find an excuse to talk to each other, it was safe, it wouldn't reach the terrible conclusion that this was. Other matters faded ancillary, even their relationship and Gabriel perpetrated that as much as Jack. That couldn't be the foundations of them and Gabriel wanted to believe that but he'd bred himself a soldier, born anew on the battlefield. Neither would be sated with domesticity or without ambition. But even so, was it inevitable that things would turn so incredibly ugly? Jack was still seated right in the corner of the room and it would've been humorous if it wasn't  
so fucking sad. He took his beanie off, scraped his fingers through his dark hair and then lay back, sighed. Jesus, this was exhausting. 

"I'll be on my feet by tomorrow."

\--

There wasn't much else to be said and jack was running out of excuses to stay. Sighing he stood, still unsure if he was heading for Gabriel or the door, his entire body felt numb.   
He lingered for a minute before approaching Gabe's bed side. Reyes wasn't looking at him. 

"Jesse and the others are on their way, I told them to come a bit later to give you time to rest" 

He swallowed thickly knowing he couldn't stay here any longer, the man not an arm’s length away from him was already so far out of his grip. He thought carefully on his next words knowing that they might well be his final parting words to the man he had loved so much and so intensely. They felt like the last words he would ever say, once this was over it would mark the end of himself Jack Morrison who'd become so lost in an abyss of broken relationships, broken identity, broken aspirations. There was nothing left anymore. 

"Take care Gabriel" He uttered, voice cracking, almost inaudibly.

\-- 

McCree had been right, the fact that Jack had superimposed his orders was explicit and Reyes saw it as an act of sup plantation rather than the desire for him to fit in more rest. Once, reading each other had been as natural as breathing. 

"Whatever." 

Being succinct was the only thing keeping Gabriel intact because every time he caught sight of the expression on Morrison's face his throat would close up more. The part of himself that he kept alive within distant memories - of the Nebraskan sun on their backs, of serum shots, of stolen touches - had touched that face before, fiercely held the man behind it together. No, no. He swallowed, found himself talking with those memories - of an extraordinary tactical co-operation, of immutable intimate trust - branded into the forefront of his brain. 

"We're...- hmmm." 

The anger injected into Gabriel's voice sounded fake even to him. He scowled to himself, swallowed, pressed his lips together. His chest fluttered, throat stenotic, and he held his breath because he didn't trust the next. 

"This is really it, huh. I- hmmm." 

He nodded to himself, exhaled, inhaled in a quiet, ragged rush and blinked hard. 

"Jesus- Fuck-" 

A single traitorous tear ran down his cheekbone, banished as quickly as it had appeared. No, no, no- no, no. Gabriel exhaled in a growl. He was stone, he reminded himself. He was flesh. No, no.

\--

He couldn't prolong this any longer, the waver in Gabriel's voice was enough to set him off without the tear the other let slip. The raw feeling of finality was enough to completely overwhelm and in capitate him and he had to leave before he completely and utterly lost himself in the feeling, the panic. 

Before he could stop himself he reached out his hand lightly grazing it down Gabriel’s wrist, brushing over his fingers. One last touch, to affirm that this was real, ground himself. Gabriel's wrist mottled with light bruising from his earlier iron grip, his last attempt at latching on. It didn't feel real under his touch, how could something so familiar, so safe and comforting could become so foreign to him?

As he backed away his vision became dotted and hazy, couldn't bring himself to say anything else, could only concentrate on what was real. One step, could feel the soles of his feet in his shoes, the cold hard plastic of the door handle he jumped as it clicked despite the fact that he was the one that opened it. 

Don't hesitate, why couldn't he move past the door way. Why wouldn't Reyes stop him, once he stepped out this door he's lost everything, everything important to him, everything Gabe said rendered true. He's no longer Jack Morrison, he's a fraud, a shell, he's nothing. This one step, one step, one step would effectively change his life and god. It's already over stop pretending if you don't take this step that everything could magically be salvaged. Why would he rather live his life in pain fighting and clawing at each other than losing him completely? He wanted to run back scream 'DONT LEAVE ME ‘again and again until one of them relented but rationally he knew that wouldn't change a thing. 

He stepped and a part of him died along with it.

\--

Gabriel's mouth ran on autopilot and the only thing it could croak was, "Jack," his hand twitching under the contact. 

It was as he'd said, there was nought left to say; after all the breath, the dirt, the fire had burnt. They couldn't cross the bridges they'd incinerated themselves.   
"Jackie." It was the only thing he could think to say. This was the nail in the coffin, if Jack walked out those doors- 

"Jack." Hoarser this time, louder, as Jack's hands closed around the handle. This was it. This was not a dream, if Jack walked out those doors then he would give it up. He would be done. He would kill this weak, human faction of himself that he held onto the second he crossed the threshold. 

It was the knowledge that Morrison would assuredly run that had him calling for his return. He knew he wouldn't turn but Gabriel wanted Jack to hurt because if this was going to be the death of this he'd damn well ensure it killed Morrison too. He was cracking, cracking, cracking- 

And then Jack was gone and it was just him and Gabriel waited for Armageddon but it never came. Everything he'd harboured licked at the inside of his skull like smoke, noxious, ashen. There had been no outburst; had expected a supernova and gotten a black hole. There was no place for it externally anymore. His body felt numb. 

And so Gabriel stared at the door and he waited for McCree. 

For once, he would play ball, he would be the fucking doomsday device this organisation wanted him to be. Overwatch's fate was sealed.

**Author's Note:**

> title based on the song 'two' by the antlers
> 
> "Well no one's gonna fix it for us  
> no one can  
> you say that "No one's gonna listen, and no one understands"  
> so there's no open doors  
> there's no way to get through  
> there's no other witnesses  
> just us two
> 
> There's two people living in one small room  
> from your two half-families tearing at you  
> two ways to tell the story (no one worries)  
> two silver rings on our ringers in a hurry  
> two people talking inside your brain  
> two people believing that I'm the one to blame  
> two different voices coming out of your mouth  
> while I'm too cold to care and too sick to shout."


End file.
